Baby On Her Doorstep

Nothing on her face gave away her thoughts or feelings. Laura asked, “Is breakfast served in here or the main room?”

Mrs. Murphy hugged Grace against her leg. “Breakfast is always in here.”

Laura’s eyes widened. Was she surprised that the other woman could speak in a nice, calm voice? Or that breakfast was always in the kitchen?

Clint shook his head and walked to the table. He placed his cup on the wood and knelt beside the table for his morning hug from his Gracie. It might look strange to Laura Lee, but he didn’t care.

Grace saw him and quickly released Mrs. Murphy. Her little chubby legs carried her to Clint. He grabbed her close and hugged. This was his favorite time of the morning.

Hope watched.

Clint extended an arm out to the little girl. Like Grace, her real mother was gone. Did the little girl understand? Or was she too young to realize that she’d been given away like a freshly made cake?

The little girl toddled over to him. She fell into his embrace and giggled along with Grace.

His gaze met Laura’s. Her eyes seemed softer, as if cushioned with unshed tears. Were her thoughts on the fact that Hope’s mother and father were missing?

From the looks of things, Hope needed a father figure, and Laura needed a friend. The silly thought came to him that he’d be here for both of them for as long as they needed him.

Clint gently released the girls and stood. The two girls looked up at him. He placed each of them on to a chair at the kitchen table, very aware that the two women watched his every move. He took a sip of coffee, and the bitterness coated his tongue. What had he gotten himself into, with four ladies in his house and not one man to help him muddle through the awkward times?

* * *

A couple of days later, Laura stood back and watched the girls splash water at each other. They both had smelled like hot little puppies when she’d decided they needed a good scrubbing. She glanced up to see Mrs. Murphy standing in the kitchen doorway.

Dread filled her. The other woman hadn’t been mean, but she’d definitely been rude on more than one occasion. Laura put a smile on her face and said, “I hope you don’t mind. The girls needed a good bath.”

Mrs. Murphy returned her smile. “As long as you clean up after them, I’m fine with them taking a bath. My husband used to say, ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness.’” She chuckled. “I think the dear soul really believed that one was in the Bible.”

Laura couldn’t help but grin at the familiar saying. “I’ll have it cleaned up in a jiffy in here.”

The other woman waved her hand. “There isn’t any rush.” She came farther into the kitchen. “I just came in to stir the beans and ham hock.” She laid a worn Bible on the kitchen table.

It was good to see that the Irishwoman read from the book. Laura Lee held her own Bible study every morning before the children awoke. She didn’t believe she would survive a day without reading the Word first thing.

The little girls played happily in the water. Their big eyes and smiles filled their tiny faces. This was the first time Clint had been gone from the house all day. Laura had worried Grace would fret, but the little girl hadn’t.

The fragrance of ham filled the kitchen. Laura thought about mentioning that she could make a mean pan of cornbread to go with the beans and ham hock, but changed her mind. It had been a long time since she’d cooked, and over the last few days she’d learned that Mrs. Murphy wasn’t the sort who would let another woman work in her kitchen.

Mrs. Murphy replaced the lid on the bean pot, sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and watched the girls. “Which do you think I should make? Biscuits or corn bread?” She didn’t take her eyes off the children.

Was she trying to make up for her shortness of the last few days? Laura tilted her head to the side. “Whichever is easier for you.”

The older woman laughed. “That’s a very good answer, but which one do you have—” she tried to imitate a cowboy tone “—a hankerin’ for?”

Laura laughed. The Irishwoman joined in, and the children splashed and giggled all the harder.

When everyone had settled down, Laura answered, “That was the funniest imitation I have ever heard. I think corn bread would be a good choice, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. Corn bread was what I was thinking, too.”

“Good. I...” Laura stopped. She’d almost offered to help again, but decided against it. Mrs. Murphy seemed to be in a pleasant mood, and there was no reason to spoil it.

She helped Grace from the tub of lukewarm water. “Come on, pumpkin. Let’s get you dressed.”

Grace giggled and kicked her feet as Laura wrapped a clean towel around her. Mrs. Murphy scooped Hope from the bathwater and proceeded to towel her dry, as well.

“You really don’t have to do that, Mrs. Murphy. I don’t want the girls to be a bother to you, at all.”

She towel-dried Hope’s curly hair. “It’s no bother. And please, call me Camelia.”

Laura sat back on her heels. “So now you want to help with the girls?”

Camelia sat back also. Her gaze met Laura’s, and honesty shone through her words. “I’m sorry. I haven’t behaved in a very Christian manner since you’ve been here. I’m new to this Christian life and don’t always act correctly. I love Gracie, but I just don’t have the patience I used to with children. Or adults, for that matter, but I’m trying to do better.” Her gaze moved to the Bible on the table.

Laura continued drying Grace’s little arms. “I know what you mean. I’m not always good with adults, either. I love children, but oftentimes their parents set my teeth on edge.” The two women shared knowing grins. Then Laura pressed on. “Maybe we can work together and learn from each other.”

Laura held her breath while she pulled Grace’s little dress over her head. What would Camelia think of her suggestion? Laura wanted to befriend the woman. Honestly, she’d never had a woman friend that she could talk and work with. Most women didn’t have time for a widow or friendship. Would Camelia?

Chapter Six

Clint’s back ached, his hips hurt and his legs felt full of lead. He’d started the day checking on his herd of cows and the two bulls in the west pasture. Then in the afternoon, he’d plowed the east field and ended the work day with feeding the cows and calves again and checking on the ones that would have calves soon.

His thoughts had been preoccupied during the day with Laura and Grace. What were they doing? The schoolteacher had brought lots of books, and even though Grace was only two, Laura had started showing her the books and asking her questions such as “What color is this?” And pointing to pictures of fruit trees and asking questions like, “How many apples are in the tree?” And other stuff like that. Mrs. Murphy had criticized Laura’s attempts at educating the little girls. Personally, he’d found it interesting.

Clint hated that the two women didn’t seem to get along. He’d tried to soften the verbal blows that Mrs. Murphy had rained upon Laura. He felt the tension in the air and wondered if the little girls could feel it, too. Laura had said she didn’t mind Mrs. Murphy’s rude behavior, but he could tell it was wearing on her.

He both dreaded and looked forward to going to the house. A hot meal and soft bed were welcomed, but what would the atmosphere with the ladies in the house be like? He’d gone from having two females in the house to having four, not an easy transition. Clint knew he’d have to have another talk with his housekeeper and he dreaded it.

Richard met him outside the barn. “I’ll take your horse, Clint.”

“Thanks.” He swung from the saddle with a groan. His gaze moved to the front of the house. “How have things been here today?”

“Pretty quiet. The ladies have been inside most of the day. Mrs. Murphy threw bathwater out the back door earlier.”

“Bathwater?” A grin split his face.

Richard nodded. “Yep.”

Just as he’d thought, Laura Lee was a woman who believed in cleanliness. Thank the Lord! He had noticed that Grace had begun to smell a little ripe but hadn’t wanted to be the one to give her a bath. He didn’t know how the little girl could manage it, but every time he’d given her a good scrubbing, he’d come out of the ordeal almost as wet as she did.

With a lighter step, he turned toward the house. “Thanks, Richard. I’ll see that you get a piece of Mrs. Murphy’s dessert tonight.”

“Don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I’ll take it. Thanks, boss.” Richard whistled as he disappeared into the barn.

Clint was happy Grace had received her bath but wasn’t sure it was time for him to start whistling just yet. He’d skipped lunch, and his belly gave a growl of displeasure at the missed meal. Thankfully, Mrs. Murphy hadn’t stopped cooking good meals, but after their meeting tonight, she might. He couldn’t let her continue to treat Laura badly. The young woman had done nothing to warrant the older woman’s mean spiritedness.

Laura’s soft laughter drifted through the open window as he approached the house. The little girls squealed their pleasure and then he heard the Irishwoman. Was she telling them a story?

Clint opened the door and entered the house.

Mrs. Murphy chased the little girls about the sitting room, saying in her thick Irish accent, “I’m gonna get you!”

Hope’s little legs toddled, and a big grin filled her face. Grace squealed and ran for her father’s legs. His daughter grabbed him and turned to Mrs. Murphy with a squeal. Hope grabbed the other leg and plopped down on his boot.

The Irishwoman stopped and looked at him, confused. She then turned to Laura. “Goodness, we’ve let the time escape us. Come help me get supper on the table, Laura. Clint, you take care of these squealing children.” With her head held high, Mrs. Murphy hurried from the room.

Since when had Mrs. Murphy started asking for Laura’s help? His gaze moved to the schoolteacher. She shrugged her shoulders at him and followed his housekeeper to the kitchen.

Grace babbled against his leg. He scooped her up and gave her a quick squeeze. In a very low voice he confided in her, “Well, seems a lot has changed since I left this morning.”

The child took his face in her little hands and babbled seriously.

Clint couldn’t help but laugh. “Child, I’m looking forward to the day when I can understand you.”

His gaze moved to the silent Hope. She stood rested against his jean-clad leg, watching them with big eyes. Where was her pa, and why had he and Hope’s ma left her on Laura’s porch?

Grace pushed against his shoulder, a clear indication that she wanted to be released. He lowered her to the ground and gently picked up Hope. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

Her finger went straight into her mouth. Hope’s eyes widened, but she didn’t push away.

He gave her a squeeze much like the one he’d shared with Grace. Hope grinned around her finger and then laid her head on his shoulder.

Clint lost his heart. Now what was he going to do?

Laura stuck her head around the door to the kitchen and called, “Supper’s ready. Send the girls in here and go wash up.” Her head disappeared around the corner.

Hope raised her head and pushed away from him much like Grace had done moments earlier. He sat her down beside Grace, who had been leaning against his leg.

With his heart in his throat, Clint watched as Grace took Hope’s hand in hers and walked toward the kitchen. Just as she got to the door, Grace turned, looked to him and babbled something before going into the kitchen where the other ladies waited.

Once more he felt the pressure of living with four females. They had begun to boss him around and steal his heart. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. If Hope could get into his heart so quickly, Clint knew he needed to stay away from Laura. He’d vowed not to fall in love again after his wife’s death. That was one promise Clint intended to keep. No matter how pretty the nanny looked tonight.

* * *

They’d been on the ranch now for a week and still no news about Hope’s family from the sheriff. Laura couldn’t get the image of Clint cuddling Hope close to his shoulder out of her mind. He’d looked genuinely happy to be holding the little girl, and Hope’s expression had been one of pure bliss. They seemed to just go together. She’d been trying to push the image out of her mind for days.

Even now, Laura tried to think of something else. But when she did that, her mind would turn to Hope’s future. What was going to become of the little girl?

Where were Hope’s parents? How could they stand to be away from her for so long? She was a sweet child. Thanks to Grace and her chattiness, Hope now whispered what Laura knew were the beginnings of words.

It was time for Laura to take a trip into town and see if he’d learned anything. She dreaded the thought that Hope’s parents could be there, waiting for her to return the child.

“You seem deep in thought.”

Laura looked up at Clint. She’d not heard him come up onto the porch. “I was thinking about Hope and the sheriff.”

He sat down on the step and leaned his back against the railing. “I’ve been thinking about them, too.”

She looked down at the bowl of potatoes she’d been peeling before her mind had wandered. “You have?”

Clint took his hat off and rested it over his bent knee. He nodded. “Seems to me, you should have heard something from the sheriff.”

A slight breeze lifted the hair from his brow. Laura looked away once more. She stared out at the three horses that had been put in the corral closest to the barn. “I think so, too.”

He cleared his throat, then said, “If the sheriff doesn’t come out soon, would you like to take a trip into town?” He played with the brim of his hat.

“Honestly, I’d rather hide out here, but I suppose I’ll need to go talk to him sooner or later.” She peeled the potato in her hand and sighed. “I never knew I was such a coward, but where that little girl is concerned, I am.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Laura tried to smile at him but failed miserably. She swallowed before answering. “I’m afraid that he’ll tell me her ma and pa have been looking for her, and I’ll lose her. If only we could stay out here forever and I’d never have to give her up.”

“I wish that were possible, too, but the sheriff knows you are out here.” He shook his head. “By now, the whole town knows you are out here.”

“True.” She dropped the last peeled potato into her bowl and stood. “So, I’ll face the inevitable.” Laura realized he must have had a reason for coming to the house midafternoon. “Did you want to talk to me?”

Clint grinned up at her. He stood also. “I am headed out to the west pasture and thought maybe the girls would like to take a swim in the stream while I check on the fence line.”

His grin and the sparkle in his eyes set her heart to doing flip-flops. What was it about this man? Her breath quickened, and she nodded. Thanks to an overly hot spring this year, the water should be perfect for the girls to splash about in. “I’ll need to get them up from their afternoon nap. Can you give us a few minutes?”

At his nod, she turned to enter the house.

“Laura?”

She turned back to look at him. “Yes?”

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand. Not all women like roaming around a ranch.” A frown replaced the smile. Was he thinking of Grace’s mother?

She smiled to ease his concern. “Good thing I’m not one of those women.”

He tipped his hat at her. “Then I’ll go ask Richard to help me hitch up the wagon.”

“Why in the world would you hitch up the wagon for a trip across the pasture?”

Clint tilted his head to the side. “I just thought...”

The frown was back. “I know you did. But honestly, if you don’t mind holding Grace in front of you, I’d rather ride out on one of the mares.” Laura smiled sweetly. “I’ve missed riding.”

He laughed. Not a soft gentlemanly laugh but a flat-out laugh. It warmed her toes to hear the sound, and lightning bugs started fluttering in the pit of her belly. “Then I’ll go saddle the lady a horse.” Clint started whistling as he left the porch.

Chapter Seven

Clint gasped at the sight of Laura Lee in a pair of his old trousers as she marched toward him holding each of the girls’ hands. She wore a pair of girly boots and the big, floppy sombrero-type hat that Mrs. Murphy wore while gardening. The pants were sagging about her waist and looked as if they would fall to the ground at any moment.

When she came within talking distance, Laura announced, as she looked down at the girls, “If we are going to make a habit of this, I’ll need to make Grace and Hope a pair of pants, too. I hope you don’t mind, but Mrs. Murphy said that you never wear these anymore and that I could borrow them. I know they are too big, but it will be much easier to ride on the horse and I’ll be able to play with the girls in the water without fear of my skirts weighing me down when they get wet.”

Her words came out faster than he’d ever heard her speak. Even Grace looked up at her with wide, amazed eyes. Laura’s cheeks were pink when she finally raised her gaze to look at him. Was she embarrassed to be wearing men’s pants? Or did she think he’d be angry at her for doing so? His wife, Martha, would have fainted if anyone had even suggested she wear pants.

He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Clint walked about her and clicked his tongue. “Seems to me, while you’re making the girls pants, you might oughta take those up a mite, too. They are falling right off of you.”

Laura released Hope’s little hand. “There’s no chance of that happening.” She held up the end of her shirt just enough for him to see the dark brown drapery cord that held the pants up around her waist. Laura’s smile and her look of triumph caused the breath to quicken in his throat. She really was quite a woman.

Hope toddled over to him and clutched his leg. He bent down and asked, “Want to ride with me? Or—?” Clint was at a loss for words. He’d never heard what Laura called herself to the little girl. His gaze searched hers.

“Laura,” she answered softly.

His gaze returned to the little girls. “Or Laura?”

The softest of whispers answered, “Ewwww.”

He swung Hope up into the air and was rewarded with a sweet giggle. Clint looked to Laura and Grace. “You don’t mind riding with Laura, do you, Gracie?”

The little girl tugged Laura’s hand and tried to walk toward the mare Clint had saddled for her earlier. Her little voice chattered as she tugged.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled.

“Hold up, Grace. I need to get our bag from the porch.”

Grace dropped Laura’s hand and started walking to the porch. While they retrieved the bag, Clint put Hope on his shoulders.

Laura returned with the bag and Grace. She tied the bag to her saddle horn and then swung into the saddle as if it were an everyday occurrence. Her lips twitched as she looked down at him and said, “Would you mind handing Grace up to me?”

Clint balanced Hope on his shoulders and scooped Grace up. He handed the child to Laura and grinned. “Why, Mrs. Lee, I believe you have some explaining to do. I’ve never met a prim and proper schoolteacher who can swing into a saddle like you just did.”

Laura adjusted Grace in front of her. “It’s been a while, but I’ll be honest. It felt good.”

Once Hope was off his shoulders and sitting in front of him, Clint urged his horse toward the west pasture. “Do you mind if I ask where you learned to mount a horse like that?”

She guided the little mare he’d chosen for her up beside him. “Not at all. I grew up on a small farm. Daddy only had me and my younger sister to help out. We learned to ride at a young age.” Her blue eyes met his. “If you need help with the fence line, I can do that, too.” She raised her head high. “I’m not ashamed that I can ride and work a farm, Mr. Shepard.”

“You shouldn’t be, Mrs. Lee.” He pressed Hope’s back closer to his stomach as the little girl seemed to want to slide to the left. “I’m hoping Gracie will want to ride and fix fences someday, too.”

“I never said I wanted to fix fences.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

He laughed. “I’m not sure anyone wants to fix fences. I know that I usually take on that job. My men would rather be herding cattle or feeding. Can’t blame them for that. It’s a hot job.”

The little girls babbled to each other as they rode along. Laura nodded her head. Her floppy hat had fallen to her back, held by the string that she’d tied under her chin. The sun caught the reddish highlights in her hair.

“It gets pretty cold during the winter, too. I remember one year the snow was up to our horses’ bellies. We had an old bull that had kicked through the fence and headed to the barn. Pa and I spent half a day just fixing it enough to keep the other cows in, but come spring we had to fix it proper.” She shuddered. “I don’t believe I had ever been that cold before.”

“You grew up here in Texas?” Clint heard the sound of running water ahead.

The horses heard it, too, and picked up the pace.

“No, I grew up in Kansas.” Laura gave her horse its head, and it galloped across the pasture where the stream, grass and trees awaited.

Clint followed at a slower pace. The sound of Grace’s squeals of happiness touched a part of his heart that had lain dormant for the past couple of years. Grace was his pride and joy, but very seldom had he heard the child laugh with such abandon.

It seemed Laura brought out the joy in the little girl. She’d had that effect on him earlier, too. Was it because she was a woman? Or was it because she belonged on the Shepard Ranch? The unbidden question entered his mind. Was it possible she belonged with them?

He squished the thought of her belonging on the ranch and with them. Clint mentally reminded himself that Laura was only going to be with them a few months and that he had no business thinking of her staying any longer.

* * *

Laura tucked the children into their beds. It had been a fun afternoon with the girls. They’d giggled and splashed in the water while Clint worked on the fence. She’d watched him and wondered why he’d suddenly gone from chatty to quiet. It didn’t matter. For a few moments she’d allowed herself to become too friendly with her boss. Thanks to his response to her being from Kansas—at least that’s what she figured had turned him into a quiet cattleman—she’d come to her senses and become the nanny she was supposed to be and focused on the girls.

Still, she couldn’t help but think of Clint’s change in behavior. He’d gone from teasing and laughing to quiet, almost somber. Laura shook her head. If she went to bed thinking like this she’d never get any sleep. She walked to the kitchen to make a warm glass of milk. Warm milk always helped her to sleep better.

Clint was still out in the barn. He hadn’t come in for dinner. Mrs. Murphy had sent plates out to the barn for him and Richard. They had a cow out there that seemed to be having difficulty birthing her calf. Laura made a mental note to check on Grace again before heading to bed.

Camelia sat at the kitchen table sorting brown beans. She looked up when Laura entered. “Can’t sleep?”

Laura smiled. “I haven’t tried, yet. Thought I’d have a little warm milk before bed.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t mind having a mug of warm milk, too. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Laura pulled out a pot to heat the milk.

“Any word on how Bessy is doing?”

“Bessy?” Camelia frowned.

“The cow.” Laura poured the milk into the pan and looked over her shoulder at the older woman with a grin.

“You named the cow?”

Laura shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

The other woman chuckled. “Bessy—” she paused in her bean sorting “—is still laboring away.”

Stirring the milk with a wooden spoon, Laura sympathized with the cow. “Poor thing.”